Gilded Cage
by Runner043
Summary: A coda and tag to S1E7's 'A Rebellious Woman'. Why is Ninon de Larroque at the de Athos chalet la Fere? Written for the October Fete des Mousquetaires prompt.


" _Gilded Cage_ "

Written for Fete des Mousquetaires' October prompt.

A coda and tag to S1E7 'A Rebellious Woman'.

Beta read by CelticGal.

Ninon gently refolded the letter before returning it to its envelope. A task easily done due to the neat creases already present in the parchment, placed there previously by her delicate hands. She'd kept herself distracted by spinning the de Larroque family signet ring on her finger as the wax melted, but eventually gave in, unable to keep herself from reading her own words just one more time. They had to be perfect, after all. "Dear Athos", "My Dearest Athos", "Athos", the salutation alone had taken her nearly an hour to pen. This letter was indeed a source of anxiety to her from the first word.

She'd been at la Fere for many months now. Restoring the once grand chalet to its original glory, while simultaneously transforming it into an orphanage, had been a challenge indeed. Assessing the fire damage had of course been the first order of business. The chalet's appearance, alarming at first, gave way to the discovery of damage confined primarily to the West facing exterior wall that contained the main entry and an abundance of windows. This was no doubt due to the flames jumping from one window to the next, fueled by heavy drapery fabric. It would take a lot of coin to repair the damage, so good ol' elbow grease came first to remove destroyed rugs and furniture, and anything else Ninon could manage to do. Of course she didn't do it all herself. No, Bertrand and his daughter Jeanne had come daily that first fortnight. Beyond that it took coin to begin the repairs and rebuilding of the structural damage, which, unbeknownst to the Cardinal, she had some of. It was a minor amount, at least in comparison to the wealth her family had bestowed upon her, but it was nearly enough for the new orphanage. And duping the Cardinal had turned out to be easier than she'd thought, but that's what happens when someone is so arrogant they think they know everything, because they don't. To her surprise, Athos ended up supplying what she lacked, which served to further stir her curiosity of the Musketeer. She was able to purchase beds and desks for the children with the provided funds, and even a few books.

When Ninon found herself thinking of Athos, which was rather frequently of late due to the opening of the orphanage, it was accompanied by a pendulum of emotion. The man was clearly not the marrying kind, which he had made clear and suited her just fine, yet she could have loved a man like him. Still, there was that inner sadness that marred his handsome features, and somehow, she had determined, it was connected to this old chalet she now called home. She'd seen the paintings in the library, one clearly of him, and the de Athos name down in the family crypt. She had asked him to come with her, to be her escort, on that day they'd parted ways just outside of Paris. He'd flinched at her request before quickly hiding his emotions and wordlessly offering his hand to assist her into the open carriage that would take her to her new life.

Ninon let the red wax drip across the flap of the envelope before pressing her signet ring into it, then replaced the lid on the ink well. There would be no changing the words this time, either. The doors would soon be open to the orphans that would call la Fere home and she hoped with all her heart that Athos would accept this invitation to come and see it for himself. He had been more than kind, and certainly more than generous, when he'd made the suggestion for her new life. It seemed, at first anyway, an ideal way for him to get rid of something he no longer wanted for something she had found herself in need of: a future. The Cardinal may have taken much from her, put her in a cage, but Athos had made it a gilded cage.

After seeing to the letter's delivery, Ninon headed for the study to see for herself an order of books that had just arrived. She had thought herself content to be a teacher, but now as headmistress, she had found within herself so much more. She would do more than just educate daughters of the poor, she would help them build a future for themselves. As she read titles across the spines of the new books, she found herself saying a prayer for the children that would soon read them, then looked down at the cross that now hung from her neck to just below her wren pendant. It had been a parting gift from Aramis, and although not nearly as fancy as the one he had previously loaned her, it still had come to mean something special to her. She had reminded the women at her salon once that God gave life and it was their Christian duty to live it to the fullest. She would take her own advice now. She would learn, she would teach, and she would live.

As the day neared to a close, Ninon returned to the library, pausing at the now empty place where 'her' portrait once hung, now nothing but a blank space on the wall, marked by the fading that only time can cause. ' _What were you to him, Madame de la Chapelle?_ ' she wondered, not for the first time. ' _Or whatever you name is_ ', her mind added. She had no doubt that the woman who had been in her company, stayed in her home, then lied at her mockery of a trial and threatened that innocent women would die if she did not confess, had been the same woman in the painting. She and Athos had clearly been more than 'passing acquaintances' and it was so awfully hard to imagine him with a woman like her. Ninon did not believe in witches, yet if there ever was one, it would be that dreadful woman. For none other than a witch could steal a man's soul, make them forget they had a reason to live. Ninon feared that is what had happened to Athos, yet a hope sparked in her then that perhaps if he accepted her invitation to attend the arrival of the children at the new orphanage, it could undo some of the damage.

Just steps away now, Ninon looked at Athos' painting, remembering his words about his marriage ending badly. "The fault is her's, isn't it?" She asked as if he was right there in front of her. "She is your deep secret. She is your hidden emotion. It's her fault this place haunts you so much you cannot return. She is forever your ghost, isn't she, Athos?"

Cyber brownies for reviews! Sorry, I'm out of dark chocolate covered espresso beans (gave 'em all to CelticGal).

Although I am marking this story as complete, I am hoping to add a second chapter at a later time, so obviously it would not be part of the prompt.


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